


Tutor

by nice_girls_play



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nice_girls_play/pseuds/nice_girls_play
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick helps Vyvyan with his revision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tutor

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on FF.net and at the [Young Ones Slash LJ community](http://tyo-slash.livejournal.com) in 2006.

"Mandible."

Rick's head spun around as a fist connected with the side of his jaw.

"Right. Parietal bone," he rubbed his chin just has the same fist knocked his head forward.

"Correct. L-lower femur."

It was the hand dragging his leg up as if to snap it that was finally too much.

"Vyvyan, do you think you could leave some of my bones un-broken? You're not the only one with exams in the morning, you know."

Vyvyan stared at the boy stretched out next to him on his bed.

"Yes I am."

"Well, yes. Yes you are, actually. But all the more reason not to maim the only person in the house willing to help you with your revision."

The medical student scowled.

Not technically true. He could have bullied Neil into doing it if he wanted. But if this had really been about wanting to learn the material, he wouldn't have invited a distraction like Rick to help him. Or made those girlie flashcards the sociology student held so primly against his chest.

He'd found a bloody great reason for getting Rick up to his room in the daytime without drawing suspicion from Michael and Neil. Now if he could just get Rick in on the plan, they might be on to something here..

"All right, let's move on to the tissues then."

"Right," Rick shuffled the cards officiously, shrinking on the mattress next to Vyvyan as if anticipating the next blow. "External carotid."

Rick squeaked as his house mate's tongue suddenly swiped across the side of his neck, followed by his teeth.

"Is that right?" Vyvyan rasped, licking a leisurely stripe up to his ear. Rick shivered.

"Uh, y-yeah."

He felt Vyvan's lips twist into a smirk.

"Keep going, you bastard."

"Right, right. Okay, um," he picked another card from the deck. "Mammary papilla."

Rick let out a yelp as Vyvyan rolled on top of him, reaching over his gray cotton dress shirt to pinch his nipple. After a few moments of gentle prodding, Vyvan roughly yanked the fabric out of Rick's trousers to slide his fingers underneath, popping two buttons off in the process.

The sociology student laughed breathlessly, blue eyes widening a second later as he moved to cover Vyvyan's hands with his own through the cloth.

"Your hands are cold," he whispered, eliciting a smile from the boy above him.

"Give 'em a few seconds," he grinned, nuzzling at Rick's jaw. "They'll warm up."

Rick leaned back against the pillow, eyes closing as cool fingertips and the scrape of studded wristbands moved over his chest and stomach; blanching as they probed a few ticklish spots. His breath hitched when Vyvyan grabbed an end of his shirt in each hand and tore it open, scattering the remaining buttons.

"I didn't know it was compulsory for third year medical students to take a review of Basic Anatomy," his hands slipped up and into Vyvyan's hair as the medical student's mouth continued its assault on his throat and chest, hips grinding lazily against his.

"It's not," Vyvyan paused as Rick's fingers stopped stroking, sticking his tongue in the anarchist's ear. "Well, go on, Rick. We've got loads of bits left."

Rick flung an arm out to reach for one of the flash cards that had fallen to the floor, grappling the edge with his fingernails. He strained to focus on his boyfriend's ragged handwriting, even as Vyvyan's tongue moved down and across his chest, tracing one of his nipples.

"Fren- u - lum."

Puzzled, Rick turned the card over as Vyvyan scuttled down his body, hands diving for the zipper on his trousers.

"Vyvyan, there's no answer on this one- oh my god."

"Trust me, Rick. I got this one right."

Vyvyan smirked as he stroked his thumb around the head of Rick's cock, wrapping his hand around the shaft and pumping slowly.

Rick sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, mewling at the sensation. His mewling turned to a startled squeal a moment later when Vyvyan pulled both his trousers and underpants down to his knees. His mind raced as the cool air rushed to his exposed flesh, his cock stiffening in response.

Grinning, Vyvyan clambered upward to straddle Rick's waist. Knocking the wind out of his chest on the way down, the punk proceeded to invade his mouth with his lips and tongue. The poet was fun to torture: the noises he made, the way he squirmed under his touch made Vyvyan smile and his cock twitch against the fly of his jeans. This got pretty hairy when they were around Mike and Neil. Of course he was usually thumping the hell out of Rick then. When he couldn't persuade him into the wardrobe or the broom cupboard.

Rick moaned at the taste of the medical student's tongue and the sensation of his rough jeans and vest against his bare skin. He ran his hands up Vyvyan's back to his shoulders, lightly pushing and breaking the contact.

"Vyv-" he panted, groping for the right words.

"Under the pillow."

Puzzled, Rick reached behind him and under the pillow, coming up with a foil packet of lubricant which the medical student promptly snatched from his fingers.

Rick watched Vyvyan undo the fastenings of his own clothes and took a moment to marvel at his position: upstairs, in Vyvyan's bed, about to have sex in the middle of the afternoon. Scandalous, really! Once upon a time, he'd been taught that respectable people didn't do those kind of things. But then, as a self-confessed anarchist, he'd been rather anxious to shed what was respectable.

As if hearing this thought, Vyvyan tore open the foil packet with his teeth, spitting the torn corner onto Rick's chest.

"Oh, Vyvyan!" the anarchist wriggled, roughly swatting at the masticated wrapper.

"What?"

Glaring uselessly at his flatmate's impertinence, Rick flopped back against the pillow.

He was naked for the most part, arms still in the sleeves of his torn shirt, trousers and underpants pushed halfway down his legs. Vyvyan, meanwhile, had stripped completely. The bike chain around his neck swayed slightly as he squeezed the contents from the packet and began lubing up his cock, thrusting slowly into a loose fist. Rick's eyes followed the movement of Vyvyan's fingers, his own hands alternately clutching and releasing the edges of the mattress.

They both still had their boots on, which Rick thought could be dangerous if they got carried away. He didn't know what might happen if his foot slipped and he accidentally dug a heel into Vyvyan's back (and he wasn't eager to find out).

Any lingering thoughts of such a scenario immediately fled as the medical student slathered the rest of the packet onto his fingers, moving to lean over him.

Vyvyan was fair-skinned, like him, and very, very pale with a sparse dusting of gold-blond hair. His chest, arms and legs were smooth, criss-crossed with the odd scar. Deep pink indentations ringed at his waist and hips where his belt cut into his skin. His turbulent blue eyes sparked as they gazed down at Rick, running his lubed hand over his stomach and down between his legs.

Rick moaned deep in his chest, arching off the bed as Vyvyan shoved two fingers inside him without preamble.

Vyvyan grinned. Thrusting a third digit inside, he scissored and spread them wide, stretching the walls of muscle around his fingers. His own erection was pressed against Rick's thigh and he rocked his hips closer, hissing at the sweet pressure it created. Rick cried out and rocked back on the other boy's fingers, reaching to pull him closer.

Rising up on his knees between the writhing student's legs, Vyvyan pulled Rick's trousers the rest of the way off and placed his legs over his shoulders. Rick let out a strangled moan as Vyvyan pushed deep inside. Sucking in a breath, Vyvyan braced his arms on either side of Rick's head, moving slowly at first then increasing the pace of his thrusts.

The bed frame creaked beneath them in an escalating temple. Vyvyan's breathing chuffed out in ragged gasps. Rick, who usually made a show of trying to restrain himself, keened enthusiastically. As he'd predicted earlier, one of his legs slid off Vyv's shoulder and the heel of his left boot gored itself in the small of the punk's back.

Vyvyan growled loudly at the impact.

Horrified, Rick held his breath - bracing for death or some worse fate - then relaxed slightly as a look of ecstasy spread over Vyvyan's features. Staring into Rick's eyes, his flatmate growled again, softer this time and more tonal, and continued slamming into him with his previous momentum.

Rick let his head fall back against the pillow, riding the waves Vyvyan was creating both within and without. Cliff and the Fates had picked a strange boy for him to tumble into bed with. Pushing that thought away, Rick grabbed Vyvyan's upper arms and strained upward, crashing his hips against his flatmate's and thrusting him in even deeper.

Rick came ahead of Vyvyan by a fraction of a second. White light burst beneath his eyelids as he dug his fingers into pale shoulder blades, teeth biting into his arm. Vyvyan groaned at his own release before sagging against his house mate, burying his face in his neck.

A long moment passed where they didn't say anything. Just breathed against each other, both of them smiling blearily. Pulling out, Vyvyan shuddered and rolled over to lie on his back on the edge if the sagging mattress. Rick followed, turning on his side and sliding an arm across the punk's chest.

"Don't fall asleep, girlie," the punk slurred.

"I'm not! I'm not," Rick replied hurriedly before seeing the playful expression on Vyvyan's face. Pouting, he lay back against the medical student's shoulder. "So you planned this?"

Vyvyan snorted against the poet's hair, twirling one of his pigtails around his fingers.

"Well, why didn't you let me in on it?"

"Because you'd have said no, you girlie."

"I would not have-" Rick stopped in mid-retort, scowling briefly at the smirk on Vyvyan's face..

Yes, yes he would have. Because he was a girlie, superior little swot. And he would have said no because that's what superior little swots were supposed to do. Smiling, he pressed himself closer to Vyvyan's body, wrapping his arm tighter around his chest and delighting in the way the punk tightened the arm across his back.

They remained curled up like that for a while longer, the afternoon sunlight drifting across their bodies and setting off their various co-mingled fluids. Vyvyan's fingers pushed through Rick's hair over and over, soothing him into an almost dreamlike state. They'd just.. screwed the better part of the afternoon away. Strange that the scandal and excitement of that thought hadn't lost it's impact now that he'd actually done it.

Nodding once, Rick pulled away from his bedmate and sat up on the edge of the mattress, scattering a flurry of forgotten flash cards to the carpet as he did so. Glancing down at his torn shirt, he reached for his trousers and underpants that had been pushed to the floor.

"What are you doing?" Vyvyan asked, running a hand up to the back of Rick's neck.

"Getting dressed," he murmured, leaning back into the other man's fingers. Apart from his shirt, the rest of his clothes sat in a crumpled heap across his lap. Vyv's touch was pulling him into a drowsy contentment he wasn't completely used to. In an effort to shake it, Rick reached out to touch Vyvyan's cheek.

"We could be caught, you know," he insisted. "Mike and Neil are still downstairs."

Grabbing Rick's wrist, Vyvyan deftly pulled him on top of him, rolling them over so that he lay on his side between him and the wall. He smiled at the poet's surprised (and confused) expression

"No they're not," Vyvyan nuzzled the side of Rick's face, sliding his arms around his shoulders. "They left about ten minutes ago. I heard the front door slam."

"Oh," the sociology student sighed, eyes closing at the sensation. "Do you... Do you suppose that they heard us?"

"Who cares?"

Suddenly alert, Rick's eyes snapped open and he jerked his head away from Vyvyan's lips right into the wall behind him.

"Oww. 'Who cares?!' Who care- _mmphll_?"

Rick's paranoid retort was swallowed in a bruising kiss. The contentment had fled, but it didn't take much for harsh, dizzying lust to take over. After all, there were still several hours of the afternoon left to work with. There were no flatmates to interrupt, no exams to trifle with in the morning.

As he'd said, Vyvyan didn't care anyway. And before too long (without much persuasion), Rick didn't either.


End file.
